July 12, 2016

I suffered today. It was supposed to be a mellow, flat, straight, and easy 110km from Ambanja to Ambilobe. It was all those, except the last bit. It was above 90F for the first time since I arrived in Africa. (To be clear, it has been 90F in Africa, but this is the first

time that I have been in a place where this has occurred.) I got on the road promptly at 630 a.m. with the plan to be done by 1130. The first 2 hours I rode directly into the blinding sun. By 9 a.m. I was relieved when the sun began to rise above my direct line of vision, only to literally follow me, over head, the next 3 hours. When I turned, it turned. When I zigged, it zagged. There was no escaping it. There were no trees, only sun. Direct sun. The entire time. It was like a beacon of despair lurking above my head. Then the head winds whipped up, fully 40km into my 110km day. At the 90km mark, the engine lights were flickering. I had eaten a dozen Oreos, some peanuts, and a Snickers. I was convinced by 90 km, I would be in the home stretch and could simply will myself to the finish line. No dice. I stopped at a local roadside epicerie to get a Coke to bring me home. They wanted the equivalent of $1.50 for a small bottle.  I didn’t even have the strength or patience to bargain but simply I disgustedly forged ahead. I saw another epicerie. They only had the 1L size, but it was ice cold and was less than $1.00. I gluttonously enjoyed every drop and briefly came back to life.

I cruised into Ambilobe 30 minutes later. It is a largish town of probably 15,000 people. The guide book describes it as a “dusty truck stop” and my Peace Corps friends didn’t argue…and neither can I. I did the usual 2 passes through town to scope out hotels. They ranged from dark alley and no windows to moderately clean with a broken toilet seat and a lumpy, dippy bed. I opted for the latter for about $11 vs the prior for about $6. It should be noted that I didn’t inspect the other toilet seat. The food choices were nearly as grim. An hour later, I eventually found someplace and collapsed at the table. Malagasy restaurants, even though they HAVE a menu, often times only have a few items available. After fumbling through the menu with the hostess in my broken French – agasy – glish, I eventually settled on my 4^th choice. The chef heard that there was an American traveling by bicycle and wanted to come out to meet me and see the bike. This happens every place I stop and it never gets old. I tried some of my Gasy. He tried some of his English. We had a laugh and he invited me back for dinner for which I accepted 3 hours later.

With a renewed bounce in my step, I shopped around the market and came across a bakery with fresh chocolate croissants and breads. For less than $1, I had purchased 8. Shopping on low blood sugar is rarely a good idea. Feeling the sugar come back, I returned to my hotel to find that the cycling clothes that I had washed in the sink and tied sloppily on the clothes line had been re-hung with clothes pins and were now dry. Little things. They didn’t have to do that, but they did. I noticed and I appreciated it.  The beautiful people of Madagascar, with their kindness and curiosity  always seem to help me find my smile.

It’s still hot at 8pm in my room with my mosquito net and head lamp (because there was a power cut), however…I’m feeling cool.

Someone went off the edge.  It was nearly me

Coke makes everything better…especially 1L

Always an ice breaker